


Merlin's Guide to the Galaxy

by clovania



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: And my only reference points are from fics I've read at 3 in the morning, Arthur Pendragon Returns, IN SPACE!, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, More tags to be added, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, We are blaming OOC-ness on reincarnation, alien ocs - Freeform, all of the knights do, apologies for the inconsistencies and plot holes between chapters, cause fantasy is cool but scifi is better, kinda need them for world building?, merlin is like 3000 years old, not the fact that I havent watched Merlin in nearly a decade, or later on if it was intentional lol, those will be filled in the consecutive chapter, well the core ones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-10-02 16:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17267270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clovania/pseuds/clovania
Summary: The downfall of Camelot is well known. Merlin always believed his king would come back when Albion needed him most. He had to believe it. It was the only thing keeping him going after all these centuries. So why was Merlin in deep space with a spaceship so old it had an actual personality and no king?





	1. Merlin

“Sir, scanners read an anomaly on our starboard side. Shall I change course to intercept?” A pop-up on the main HUD began to blink.

“What kind of anomaly? I’m not as young as I once was and I’m not really in the mood to deal with a black hole.” Merlin was elbow deep in wiring under the weapons console. Rotations of neglect had made the controls sticky and largely unresponsive. Merlin had adopted the tactic of outrunning or straight out avoiding confrontation when he had gotten his ship.

He named her _Albion_ to help him remember, but most days the name mocked him.

“Well, sir, if you weren’t messing around and had fixed my sensors, I could tell you. But no, photon weaponry is more important than navigation. I swear, you will be the death of me.” EVA responded. Her screen continued to blink, as if to further sass her captain.

“My dearest, we’ve been together for centuries. I would never let anything permanently damage you. Weapons are important. Especially since we are in unknown space.” Merlin dug himself out and made his way to the notification. The inky blackness of space serving as a comfort instead of a source of anxiety. “Tell you what, I’ll finish the weapons and get started on repairing the shield. You change our heading to that anomaly and run a diagnostic. Some adventure could do us good.”

Merlin wiped off his hands and swiped the notification off-screen. He continued to look into the vacuum as EVA processed his request. “Also, could you check the Lake Room? Make sure the Jaws Override is still operational.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Alright, sir. But if we die, I’m blaming you.” Merlin felt the ship shift slightly and sensed EVA leave the room. He stayed at the HUD a beat longer then spun on his heel to continue working. In true EVA fashion, she had neglected to give an ETA. It was a testament to how well they knew each other. To Merlin, the unknown variable was more exhilarating than anything.

That was probably also a testament to how long Merlin had been in space.

Merlin has long since made peace with his years in Camelot. Most notably how they came to an end. He never returned after he had failed his king, too ashamed to face his friends. Well, the ones that remained.

From afar, he learned of Camelot’s fall. Queen Guinevere tried to rule in her husband’s place. She was determined to show Camelot’s allies that she was just as formidable a ruler as her late husband. But all of Camelot’s allies were ruled by kings who did not approve of a woman at their level. Using the excuse that Camelot had been all but forsaken due to Morgana’s destruction, every single one of them cut ties.

When the Norsemen came, there was nothing anyone could do.

Merlin refused to think about what those invaders did to Gwen.

Having finished the weapons console, Merlin moved to the shielding array. He and EVA happened across a dying star a couple rotations back that had fried all of the shields, reserves included. Neither Merlin nor EVA had cared enough to fix them. They could fly damn near perfectly and in the off chance they happened into a skirmish, both were confident that the shields would be unnecessary.

After Camelot became a part of history, but before it became legend, all of the surrounding countries fought against the Norsemen for the land. The prophecy of the Once and Future King had permeated through the peoples of each land and made their way up to the rulers. The thing with spoken news was that it tended to skew the original message. By the time the prophecy had reached everyone, it had turned into whoever sat on the throne of Camelot would rule the world.

Naturally, everyone wanted it.

The carnage was apocalyptic. At least for the time.

Merlin had made his way as far south as the land would allow by then. He had been trying to escape his failures and would have succeeded if the Triple Goddess hadn’t cursed him with dreams. Dreams of everything happening in his home as it happened. Even during the day. It was like one eye was always watching the end of the world, unblinking. Merlin never bothered fighting it. He deserved it after all. He, the most concentrated amount of magic in the world, was in an unknown land damning his home to ruin.

When the fighting ended and the Saxons were victorious, Merlin thought the dreams would end.

The Triple Goddess had other plans.

Through every age, Merlin was forced to watch the evils of man. The very thing he could have destroyed had he not failed.

With every age, Merlin thought his king would return. Then the next age proved to be worse somehow.

When the World Wars happened, Merlin lost hope that his king would ever return. He watched people gassed and tortured. Dehumanized and murdered. He felt each of the millions of deaths caused by the Third Reich.

He felt both the atom bombs go off and the people that were vaporized in the same instant.

That was when he swore off magic and buried his memories. He spent the next fifty years in a sort of stasis knitting back together his psyche and learning everything known by the modern man.

When he awoke, he wasn’t really Merlin anymore. Thankfully, science had matured to the point he could get medicine to cut off his ties to magic. Most importantly the dreams, but he wasn’t picky. He started to believe he was just a schizophrenic with problems staying grounded in reality.

Everything faded into a blur at the back of his mind and after some time in a mental institution, Harlan was ready to join his fellow man. And there he stayed, never aging and saying it was the newest anti-aging serum doing its job. He moved every couple years, moreso out of habit than anything. His one constant was a series of friends whose common ancestor he had befriended in the late 1800's.

Government people. Who could change his birth records if he ever needed it for whatever reason. The Windsors were nice like that.

He lived a couple centuries as Harlan. Those years were some of the happiest in his life, thanks to the booze, drugs, and distinct lack of magic.

Then the world actually ended.

And Harlan became Merlin again.

He did it to protect his family, the only difference being that he knew what it felt like to lose. That alone made him persist. Once the nuclear fallout settled, there was no England. Buckingham Palace still stood tall though. A perfect circle surrounded the castle. The castle seemed to be on a plateau even though its elevation had not changed. The cliffs were so steep and tall that it was impossible to scale. Even with machinery now lost.

Over another two centuries, the survivors rebuilt the world. Merlin was there in the thick of it. Never eating or sleeping. That was when he truly made peace with him not being human. His dreams did not return. Either he had satisated the Triple Goddess or she had died when the world exploded. The spiteful part of Merlin hoped for the second explanation.

Thanks to the technological records kept by the surviving world leaders, at the end of the two centuries, humanity was finally ready for the space age.

When Evelyn Windsor gifted Merlin with his ship, he went to Avalon for the first time since his king died. The only thing left was a small bit of magic in the form of a puddle and a pebble. Merlin took both when he left Earth and locked them in a closet aboard his vessel, though he never stopped to think about why he felt compelled to do that.

After leaving Earth, Merlin stopped keeping track of time. It was easy to do without a sun’s pattern to keep his internal clock.

“Sir, I’ve finished diagnostics. We are also nearing the anomaly. I hope you finished the shields. Short-range scanners indicate a wreckage. The debris will be difficult to avoid.” EVA made herself known, pulling Merlin from his thoughts as he banged his head on the underside of the maintenance hatch. "Sorry, sir." EVA didn't sound apologetic.

He made his way over to the HUD in silence, rubbing the back of his head.

As if on cue, the remains of several ships became back lit by a nearby nebula cluster. It seemed like several vessels had run into each other and shattered upon impact. The scanners weren’t picking up any residual energy from fired weapons. It was almost like a massive pile up happened on a hyperdrive route, but there were none near their location. Not to mention it was hypothetically impossible to hit another ship in hyperspace. Each vessel essentially became a quantum number in an equation. There were way too many variables that affected a ship’s position in space. Not unlike an electron in an atom.

“EVA, any life signs?” Merlin made the HUD zoom in on the wreckage.

“No sir. Although it seems there aren’t any corpses either. I would suggest we take what can be sold and leave. This is-” EVA was cut off as a huge tremor shook the ship. “Sir, we need to go. My diagnostic showed that our hyperdrive was damaged during the encounter with that dying sun. We cannot allow whatever is attacking us to get close enough to do serious damage.”

“Mark this location, we’ll be ba-.’ The HUD lit up with several proximity alarms. “Belay that order. We’re surrounded.” Merlin said as he ran to the weapons console. “EVA, project a 3D model of the immediate area in the center of the bridge. Looks like we’ll have to show them what happens when you mess with a millennial.”

“Sir.”

The rendering began to grow as Merlin powered the weapons system. There were roughly fifteen ships, each, scanners indicated, had various levels of fire power and fortification. Most were falling into disrepair. They formed a large sphere, encompassing both Merlin's ship and the wreckage.

“EVA, if I didn't know better, I'd say these people are scrappers. Hail them. It would be best to settle this diplomatically. We don’t really have anything of value. Hell, our rations expired forever ago and this ship is at least three times as old as theirs.” Merlin moved to lock onto the ships the scanners had indicated were running on limited personnel. “But, if this gets messy, the fewer lives lost the better. I have enough murders under my belt.”

EVA didn't bother acknowledging verbally. A window popped up on the HUD as she tried to establish a connection. It was a broadcast transmission; hopefully the leader would make themselves known. Of course, the connection never came.

“Sir, might I suggest use of the gravity well? We can reverse it and make for the nebula cluster.” EVA began diverting power from the O2 scrubbers to the needle point propulsion systems as she spoke. “We will have to go through the wreckage but I suspect there won't be much our company can do about that. Our ship may be old but is much more agile than theirs could possibly be.”

Merlin nodded. “Give me controls and start the reversion. I also want our tractor beam ready. Even if this wreckage was a prop, we can sell parts. Tide us over until our next job” Merlin said as he powered the vertical boosters. He gunned them to max velocity straight down, effectively overpowering the artificial gravity on board with the amount of g’s.

It was like a bone had been dropped in a pack of starving wolves. All of the opposing ships scrambled inward, opening fire in sync. Their only thought seemed to be to completely destroy Albion and it’s two crew members.

Merlin cut off the vertical boosters without bothering to slow his descent and rerouted all the power to the rear horizontal thrusters. The sudden change in direction caused Merlin to stumble away from his controls.

“EVA, if you've got a second, reroute power from shields to weapons.” Merlin called out as he moved back to the console.

“Done, sir. Shields now at 20%. Don’t get hit. And try not to need me again, sir, this reversion takes time. It would be counterproductive to have the ship rip apart because I had to stop or made a mistake.” Merlin slammed his first onto the firing button in lieu of answering. He watched as the ships he had previously locked onto were bombarded with photon cannons and lasers, absolutely obliterating their shields and disintegrating them.

The remaining ships did not even pause in their assault to reassess. Merlin maneuvered through them, trying to draw their fire. He hoped he could get the laser streams to cross and shoot the opposite ship.

The method had worked for him in the past.

Evidently, the scrappers were well versed in the rules of engagement, as they stopped shooting and gave way to chasing. The ships that were not directly behind made to cut off all possible areas of escape. The ships then started closing in. Merlin couldn’t even zigzag to avoid enemy fire.

A shudder went through the ship as an alert popped up on the HUD, obscuring of the fight from view. Well placed cannon fire had taken down the rest of the shields and had critically damaged one of the rear thrusters. In all of Merlin’s years in space, he had never come this close to losing a fight.

Merlin felt a slight tug in his core. Something he hadn’t since the early 20th century. Time seemed to slow down around him as he concentrated on the pulsing heat radiating through his body. It started at his heart and went out to his fingers and toes. He could feel the ship around him, like his hands still on the console had connected him to Albion. Pushing aside his reservations, he delve into the connection and forced his life essence into it. There was no incantation that could do what he wanted, but that never stopped him before.

Or maybe there was one and he had just forgot.

His eyes had apparently closed in Merlin’s concentration. When he opened them, the room spun around him and he had to grip the edge on the console to keep from tipping over. The spinning slowed down enough to ignore after a moment but an intense fatigue grew in its place.

“Sir, what did you do? Shields are now at max strength and the gravity well reversion is complete.” EVA sounded as alarmed as an AI could. She did a split-second diagnostic. “The damage to the thruster and the hyperdrive have also been repaired?”

Merlin couldn’t respond. He was too close to throwing up and passing out. He sunk to the floor, keeping his hands on the console. He could feel Albion sucking the energy out of him.

EVA took complete control of the ship, slowed it to a stop, and waited. The scrappers continued to close in and did not stop their barrage. Each landed hit caused Merlin to get weaker but the shields held strong. When the scrappers were close enough, EVA powered the gravity well. The effect was instantaneous. All of the ships were shoved backwards at such a velocity that their strongest propulsion systems were useless. Not that it didn’t stop them from trying.

EVA sent Albion barreling toward the wreckage. She avoiding some of the scrappers sent in the same direction and sent a single shot at them, changing their direction so that they would crash into each other. EVA powered the tractor beam, remembering that Merlin wanted to sell some salvage. The power surge supplied from Merlin had miraculously not fried the systems. Instead, they were working at 200% capacity. EVA was able to pinpoint the valuable parts from the wreckage and pull them out with separate beams.

EVA started powering the hyperdrive. There was no need to hide in the nebula cluster until the scrappers reoriented themselves if a permanent escape was available. But, just as EVA set a destination and the ship jumped, Merlin passed out. His hands fell to his side and Albion shut down. They dropped out of hyperspace but momentum continued to carry them forward. The bridge went black and EVA was gone before she could try to wake her captain.


	2. Merlin

The desolate expanse of space did in even the most seasoned of travelers. To an outside eye, seeing nothing for infinity in all directions would be akin to hell.

And in that hell hung _Albion_. The momentum from the hyperdrive had carried the ship into a rogue asteroid cluster, which had sufficiently stopped any further movement. At the expense of structural integrity.

No scanners, no matter how sensitive, would be able to find life aboard the vessel. None of the systems were online, as evident by the temperature throughout _Albion_ reading as a few degrees above absolute zero, matching that of the surrounding area.

Even the creatures that could survive such temperatures needed some sort of air to live. And the bridge had a massive hole in the main lunette.

It was in that cold that Merlin rushed back to life. His chest felt like it was imploding and his head felt like he had tried to overdose on bad Rattherghoul Venom. His body had frozen solid and was floating in the middle of the bridge. Any attempt to move was met with searing pain and complete failure. Merlin’s brain was trying to work out what was going on, but the cold had gotten to that as well. The only stimuli that it registered was the pain.

Even his eyes refused to open.

It was impossible to say how long Merlin was suspended there. The pain only grew as his body worked to regenerate its immortal self. When his ears began to work, the only sounds he could hear were the screeches of metal as _Albion_ played bumper cars with their new neighbors. Each contact weakened the hull even more.

Merlin hoped that EVA would come back online on her own, but he knew that was a pipe dream. For all her personality, she was still just a program. And programs needed some sort of powered mainframe to run.

He tried to move his fingers, and managed to snap one off in his haste. His body was still too brittle from the cold. His brain barely registered the pain on top of everything else. It was lucky, Merlin mused, that his brain hadn’t been more severely damaged. It always took the longest to heal. Not that he took the best care of it.

There Merlin hung in hell. His body stitching itself together, an infernal demon drawing strength from its home.

Behind their lids, his eyes registered some sort of light. It moved from his left to his right, almost like there was something passing in front of him. For a second he thought he was saved. Light meant life. Then he remembered he looked and felt like a corpse. Whoever was aboard his ship would leave him and take everything that could help him once he healed.

The light passed by him again, this time in the opposite direction. It stopped in front of him and Merlin heard something that was akin to language but he couldn’t make sense of what was being said. He tried to open his eyes and show he was alive but couldn't. His eyes seared in pain, like they were being ripped to shreds by his eyelids. There was a slight pressure on his now four-fingered left hand, like someone was holding it. Maybe, Merlin thought sardonically, whoever was robbing him realised that they weren’t salvaging an ancient vessel owned by this poor soul and wanted to rescue him.

He felt more pressure surround him as he was pulled somewhere. More voices surrounded him. He thought he recognised one, but that was absurd. The last time he had heard that voice he had been young.

He let himself fade, feeling sorrowful that whatever was in store for him, he wouldn’t have his oldest friend by his side.

~~~~~

The next time he woke up, his eyes worked. Or at least they opened when Merlin commanded them to. Lights danced across his vision, but it was obvious his brain was conjuring them. Like a kind of visual tinnitus. Blinking did nothing to clear them. His body was screaming more than it had before. His brain must have healed enough to recognise the fried nerve-endings demanding attention. His left hand was the only thing not in pain.

Before he could delve further into his healing process, he heard the soft woosh of a door opening to his right. Out of habit, he turned his head. The lights refused to move so that he could see who it was.

“It’s been a while, lad. Thank god you used enough power to destroy a solar system. We’d have never found you if you hadn’t.” The familiar voice spoke. So Merlin hadn’t imagined that then. “We fitted you with a bionic finger, by the way. Would hate for you to not be able to flip people off.” There was a slight smirk in his words.

Merlin was almost fearful to respond, knowing he had gone insane. Gwaine died thousands of years ago. And Arth… His king was the only one who was going to reincarnate. Right?

“Come on Merlin, talk to me. It’s been what? Two thousand years? No, more. I’m a bit foggy on the details of it all. That magic you did jump started my memories but it’s been slow going working through them all. Two lifetimes is a lot to suddenly have to keep track of.”

Merlin swallowed before he spoke, training his eyes on some unknown ceiling above him. “Did you take my ship when you took me?” This man knew his name and sounded like his dead friend. That alone put Merlin on edge. He wouldn’t give any more information than strictly necessary.

“No hello? What are you gonna do when Arthur comes back? Leave him to rot?” Gwaine laughed like he had told the best joke this side of the Rim. “You wound me, my friend. But to answer your question, no, we did not take your ship. One of my men found you and we switched priorities. Good thing we did too. Some scrappers where closing in on the location when we jumped.”

Merlin stilled at those words. His king needed a tie to his kingdom to return! Avalon was aboard that ship! Hell, _Albion_ ’s name was _Albion_ for a reason!

Merlin’s lack of response was telling enough.

“Mate, I’m sure that ship meant a lot to you. I was joking about the Arthur thing. There’s nothing happening that warrants his return. Tell you what, I’ll help you get it back once you are healed up. On the condition you actually treat me like the friends you are I are. Or were.” Gwaine sighed but made no sound additional sound. Merlin assumed he was waiting for an answer before he left.

Merlin didn’t trust him. Even if this man hadn’t sounded like Gwaine, Merlin made it a point to trust no one but EVA. Everyone was bound to let him down. Even if that letdown was them dying on him.

Merlin swallowed again before nodding. The less time he spent talking to ghosts the better. Gwaine accepted that and clapped Merlin’s shoulder. The action made Merlin jolt, as he hadn’t heard Gwaine approach. Perhaps there was a touch of the old knight hidden in there. Maybe that was why Merlin asked, "How did you find me?"

“Wonderful!" Gwaine clapped his shoulder again before pulling Merlin into a side hug and answered him. "When you did... whatever you did, I felt it. It shook my core and my head felt like it had split open. I knew I had to find the source of that. And it was like a beacon to me. Then we found you." Gwaine let go of Merlin, suddenly remembering that his friend was still recovering from being in the vacuum of space for way longer than any human could have survived. "Rest up. I’ll be along with dinner shortly. And hopefully news of your ship.” There were footsteps and then Merlin heard the gentle woosh of the door again, signalling Gwaine had left the room.

Merlin rubbed his face, noting how his middle finger was definitely now some kind of metal alloy. It responded in tandem with his other fingers though, so he decided to treat it as a gift of good faith. He realised he hadn’t asked Gwaine what his name was. Surely he didn’t have the same name two lives in a row?

Another question ran through his mind. If Gwaine was alive and had felt the shock wave of his magic, were there others?

Merlin could feel his body righting itself as he waiting for Gwaine to return. A fresh finger didn’t seem to be shoving his prosthetic out of the way though, which was odd. His body always regressed back to his prime state. His eyesight hadn’t gotten less spotted either. Merlin had no idea why his body gave up fixing those. The finger was simple enough, just a few bones and some muscle and it wasn’t like he had never lost a limb before. Everything else was back in working order.

Before he could work himself into a panic over his seemingly failing powers, Merlin heard the woosh again. Gwaine had returned.

Merlin took a deep breath and filed away his unease until he was sure he could be alone. Being around people after so long was taxing.

“Well, we found shit on your ship. Nothing on the black market, official channels, or my personal contacts. Whoever those scrappers were… they wanted that relic for themselves. How are you feeling? MAC says you are all healed up? MAC’s my ship, by the way. Old school, I know, Having a sentient computer.” Judging by the sound, Gwaine had placed a tray of food on a table next to Merlin. “Sorry, it’s not a lot. We were in the middle of restocking when I felt the beacon. Didn’t quite make it to the food.” Merlin thought he could hear a hint of a smile. Gwaine propped himself on the edge of Merlin’s cot. The slight give in the mattress made Merlin tense up. He hated not being able to see.

Why had Gwaine’s ship said he was healed? His eyes were still useless.

In lieu on responding to his recently dead friend, Merlin groped around for the tray. He wasn’t hungry, per say, but it was still considered rude to talk with a full mouth. He hoped. He wasn’t ready to face his past just yet.

“Mate, you wanna tell me what's so important about that ship? I’ve lost several in my time and I’ve never taken it this hard. At least I talked to people. Unless… You do remember me, don’t you?” Gwaine carried the conversation as Merlin chewed on a nutrient bar.

Merlin nodded his response. Of course he remembered Gwaine. Sure, there were days he had forgotten everything about Camelot, but those memories always came back. Usually the same way his forgetting happened. Violently and almost entirely self-inflicted.

“Merlin, talk to me. I have your health report right here.” A soft breeze danced across Merlin’s nose; Gwaine must have waved it in his face. “I know for a fact you have a tongue.”

Merlin sighed again. He was too old for this shit. “What is your name?” He asked, postponing the inevitable. He had promised Gwaine he would be his friend in this life too, even if it was a means to an end. He just wanted to know how much of Gwaine’s past life bled through to this one before he opened up more.

“Gwaine. Obviously, Merlin.” There wasn’t a pause before his response, almost like Gwaine had expected the question. “I mean sure, I was born with another one, but names are just that. Names. And to you, I am Gwaine.”

Merlin pulled a face. What a diplomatic answer. His Gwaine would never be that articulate unless he was wooing a lady.

“I’ve had a hundred names in this life, Merlin, one more is nothing. Don’t get so frustrated over something like this. There are bigger problems in the universe.” Gwaine paused, watching Merlin’s face fade back to carefully blank. At least that hadn’t changed about his old friend, for better or for worse. “You didn’t answer my question though Merlin. And I’ve answered all of yours. What was so special about that ship? Its bloody ancient, mate.”

“It’s the last thing I have of home.” Merlin could feel himself falling back into the version of himself Gwaine had known, and refused to give up more. No matter what Gwaine wanted or thought, that Merlin had died when his king had.

“How is that possible? Merlin, Earth’s been gone for millennia. At least.” Gwaine thought that Merlin had been reincarnated as well, then. He had also known what Merlin meant by home. Of course he did, Merlin and Gwaine used to be near inseparable, he’d still be able to read between the lines. Best to clear the air now.

“It was given to me by the last ruling family on Earth before humans took to the stars.” Merlin tried to imagine the face Gwaine must have been sporting. His eyes would be ever so slightly squinted and his brows furrowed like he didn’t believe Merlin’s words. His mouth would be pressed into a thin line to keep himself from saying something insensitive.

“Merlin.” The word was spoken like Gwaine was a scolding parent. He demanded the truth.

“I never died like you did. Like everyone else did. I’ve been alive, never really aging, since I was born in Ealdor.” Merlin was certain Gwaine was sporting that expression now, with maybe a twinge of pity for his apparently insane friend. “I, um, I have magic. Well, did, really. I swore it off. That explosion that led you to me? It was my first attempt at magic since Earth crumbled into dust. It still keeps me from aging or staying dead, though.”

Gwaine whistled low, almost like he was impressed. “I never knew. I toyed with the idea back during the Fisher King ordeal but I figured you would tell me if it were true. Why did you give it up? Surely it’s like a part of you.” Gwaine had taken Merlin’s oldest secret in stride, much to Merlin’s amazement. Sure, intergalactic space travel had revealed races and creatures with similar affinities to the mystic arts, many of which were well sought after, but Gwaine’s memories must have made some old prejudices toward magic bubble to the surface.

“It’s more pain than its worth.” Was all Merlin said.

Gwaine stood back up and offered Merlin his hand, not that Merlin could see it. When Merlin made no indication he was going to get up, Gwaine cleared his throat. “Come Merlin, you could use a change of scenery. I’ll show you around The Intrepid . She’s the fastest ship I’ve had the privilege of being on; can outrun even the fastest Rim Cruiser.”

Gwaine was acting very nonchalant. Maybe he had become more tactful in this life? Merlin wished he could see. Half of a conversation happened with body language. MAC must have misdiagnosed Merlin and Gwaine must have thought Merlin’s eyes worked. His health report must say that aside from his finger, he had made a full recovery.

“Gwaine, your ship must be broken. When I was frozen, I ruined my eyes. I still can’t see.” Merlin spilled more truths. His words were carefully chosen and spoken in a detached way, like it was less important than small talk on the weather.

“No, MAC is state of the art. Your eyes physically are fine. There must just be a residual mental block made to keep you from hurting them again while they healed. It should pass given time.” Gwaine seemed to adopt a new personality during those few sentences. He spoke almost like a doctor and matched Merlin’s detached tone. “Now,” Gwaine, returning back to the man from Merlin’s memories, put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder to guide him. “Shall we?”

Merlin allowed himself to be guided to a standing position. Even if he couldn’t see, walking was better than being a sitting duck. At least then he could delude himself into thinking he was being productive. Merlin had to find Albion . While he was relearning to enjoy Gwaine’s company, getting back to his ship was his only goal.

Gwaine removed his hand to wrap his arm around Merlin’s shoulders.

The door wooshed open as the duo left what Merlin could only assume was the medbay. The floor turned from smooth metal to a grate beneath Merlin’s feet, causing odd echoes to bounce off the walls, which was very disorienting. Gwaine turned to the right and led them down a corridor. Merlin tried to reach out and find a wall, but was met with empty space. If the ship size could be compared to the width of this hallway, it must have easily been large enough for a crew of a hundred. They walked every so slightly in a curve, making Merlin think they were on an exterior walkway. He could imagine clear paneling showing the universe around them.

The soft hum of the ship filled the silence that had fallen between the two men.

Gwaine had them pause as another door wooshed open. The flooring had changed again to some sort of carpet.

Gwaine finally broke the silence, saying, “Careful, There are a few steps down.” He guided Merlin down to a gelatinous chair. It formed around Merlin as he sunk into it and the cool temperature did wonders to relax him.

There were sounds of running water somewhere behind him, which was surprising. Water was a priceless resource in the dead of space. Having running water made it incredibly difficult to keep a large enough supply for survival. Even with calculations for flow values and predetermined times for use, it gave too much freedom to the person standing at the spigot. Thousands of the first space ships had lost entire crews over water consumption. Commercial vessels and all but the most elite of private ships now used HydroPaks to make sure crews were staying hydrated. The Paks were designed to give its recipient enough water to survive via injection. The frequency of use was personalized and had to be determined before a person was cleared for interplanetary travel. Everything else that had needed water in the past had been reinvented to not need it. It would have been less economical to create a H20 combiner, at least on the providers behalf. Why make one thing that can be reused when you can get away with consumables?

The lights that still danced across Merlin’s vision had given Merlin the beginnings of a headache and he hoped Gwaine would continue the tour soon. Sitting in this room wasn’t much different than sitting in the medbay. Merlin needed to get to finding his ship. And taking a nap. Not necessarily in that order.

“I’m sure this is a great view, Gwaine, but I don’t think i’m enjoying it all that much.” Merlin called out, not sure how far away his friend was. “Can I get the cliffnotes about this room? This chair is great, by the way.”

He heard Gwaine swear and the water cut off. “Sorry mate, I put you in front of my personal lunette. These are my quarters. I was thinking your vision would be beginning to come back by now. We are just outside Nebula 7 and waiting for a dock number to be issued.” Gwaine made his way over and dropped down beside Merlin. He grabbed Merlin’s hand and put a cup in it.

There was a slight ripple around Merlin as the chair adjusted to the new weight. “And thanks about the chair; I won it playing Speztak. The other guy ran out of credits but had a feeling he was gonna make it big. Caught him trying to steal from other players and took his chair in exchange for not telling the floor narcs. Thing is one of a kind. Guy was apparently royalty from some pacifist planet on the back side of the Rim. I can’t remember his face but I bet I would recognise him if you wanted to play him for something.” Merlin could hear Gwaine grinning at the memory.

Nebula 7 was one of the most notorious dark zones near the Rim. It was an outpost in the heart of a particularly volatile emission nebula and was outside any systems’ jurisdiction. Of course, since its construction there had been rumors that the outpost was secretly part of the Rim, but those rumors were never proven. It had just about every contraband in the galaxy but it specialized in trafficking and arms deals. As long as someone was cleared for landing, they could get themselves any kind of slave and a shiny new untraceable blaster in one shop.

So why was Gwaine’s ship trying to dock here?

Before Merlin could ask, a hailing chime sounded out. Gwaine jumped up almost instantly and answered. He waited, not saying anything.

“You are cleared for bay 45C. There will be droids to help unload all inventory. Welcome back to Nebula 7, Eel.

Gwaine said nothing as he closed out the hail. He contacted the bridge to update them and Merlin felt, more than heard, the engines come to life. The Intrepid started towards the outpost, the tour forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some definitions:  
> Rattherghoul Venom - very prevalent type of stim drug. Can be injected or eaten. Spelled like that to emphasize the hard th sound.  
> Lunette - term for large spacecraft windows. the HUD is a holographic augmented reality overlay that is a few inches in front of the lunette.  
> Rim - One of the major systems. It is run by a Alien Cartel that’s -wait for it- main business is Rattherghoul Venom.
> 
> SO i thought about everyone coming back with merlin's surge in the last chapter but nahhhh we'se got time for that bois. also hooray a new chapter! its only been like 4 months or something? sorry about that.


	3. Arthur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for another hiatus lol. I've combined the first 4 chapters into 2. If you are returning, nothing has changed. I literally copy pasted them over. If you are new, please disregard. Enjoy!

Arthur had gained consciousness in just about every imaginable way. From sleep, from head trauma, from remedies given to him by court physicians, from poisons.. This was different. It was like he was awake before and everything now was bleeding into some sort of dream. So much so, he would have believed himself asleep if not for numbing pain that seeped through his body. It was strongest in his head and around a spot on his abdomen. His fatal wound. Maybe he was in shock?

That would make no sense; it felt like an old injury. One that acted up when it rained, not one that was currently bleeding out.

His head was another mystery. He couldn’t recall any blows that would land him in such a conundrum. Granted, blows to the head could be strong enough to make him forget.

His body wouldn’t move when he tried. Maybe he really was asleep?

Underneath the seas of consciousness, Arthur could hear a faint voice. It jingled, light and airy. A balm to the pressure that surrounded him.

_Wake up, wake up, wake up_. The voice repeated like a mantra. Praying to some old forgotten god. Arthur could make out that the voice was not one of child. Perhaps a woman? He had met men with higher voices, so he could not say for sure. The words repeated without break. The pause between each plea was the same length, like a steady breath. There was no increase or sense of urgency. Whoever was praying had made peace with the futility of it.

Or they had time to spare?

Arthur figured he was in the same boat. He could not move and the pressure surrounding him did not let up. Even so, he was not anxious or even concerned. He felt comfortable. More comfortable then he had when his wife lay curled into his side.

He began to count. Every time the voice repeated the prayer, he tallied.

23… 587… 9822…

The number got so high that Arthur lost count and had to restart. Several times over. Eventually he ran out of numbers. Or at least the ones he knew. He was a king, not a scholar.

There was no change to his situation. The voice had not even changed how they said the words. It was the same inflection every time. Arthur had never heard someone so skilled. Even the most talented of actors and musicians could not replicate themselves across performances.

Then, the voice stopped. There was no other jarring change to Arthur’s reality. He did not spring to life. The pressure had not gotten lighter. Or even heavier. If anything, Arthur just felt lonely. His only companion had vanished.

Arthur tried to call out. He called for the voice. To come back to him.

_I can’t do as you ask. Still, do not leave me alone._ While he couldn't hear anything coming from his mouth, he could feel himself speaking. He could hear it in his numb head, reverberating like a deep drum.

_Do not leave me._ Arthur had his own mantra now. He was nowhere near the same skill level as the voice. Each of his repetitions had its own spin on the words. Need. Sadness. Loneliness. Confusion. There were breaks in his mantra where he stopped to reevaluate his calling out to an unknown force.

Without fail, Arthur broke those silences. He needed to do _something_.

The voice did not return.

While Arthur still did not feel concerned with getting out of his situation, he was annoyed. He couldn’t be bothered to try and force himself awake but that didn’t mean the voice could leave him. If he had to wake up and find that voice himself, so be it.

He was a king! He decided when people were dismissed from his presence, dammit!

Renewed with vigor, Arthur fought against the pressure. His body was useless, but if his earlier success with speaking was anything to go by, everything he needed was in his head.

The thought made him pause. If the way out of this limbo was in thought, was that why his head felt the same as his side? Did someone do this to him? If so, did they make it so that he could not use his only means of escape? That would explain his lethargy. Arthur was never one to lie around.

As Arthur fought to wake up, truly wake up, he made a list of his plans. 1) Find the voice and yell at them for leaving him to rot. 2) Beat up the person responsible for imprisoning him. 3) Find his knights and wife.

Who knew how long he had been gone? He had a kingdom to run!

The pressure surrounding him faded as he struggled. It was so slow that Arthur felt no difference. He had no inclination he was beating whatever the game was until his eyes opened.

There was some sort of candle to his right. It flickered a deep red, albeit the flickering was eerily consistent. It was more akin to a heartbeat than a flame in its pulsing, but Arthur knew only fire gave off light. That and the sun, but the light was dim enough to not hurt his recently useless eyes. So, not the sun.

The numbness that had overtaken Arthur’s body was fading. It retreated back to his side and head before disappearing completely everywhere but those two places. He sat up and felt around. He was on some sort of hard bed. There was soft cloth draped over him but no cushion underneath him. His feet did not touch the ground when hung over the side.

Should he jump? The distance could be a few inches or a hundred feet. The pulsing light was so dim that Arthur could not see his hand if he stretched it out in front of him, let alone the floor. He was barefoot, else he would have dropped a shoe to hear the echo.

At a loss, Arthur listened to the other sounds around him, hoping for some kind of clue as to where he was. All the dungeons he had been in had dripping sounds, from either water or the other prisoners blood hitting the ground around their chains, echoing through them. This place had nothing of the sort. There was a slight, almost nonexistent, hum in the air. Arthur did not have the words to describe it. The air felt like it was moments away from a lightning strike, but it too constant. That feeling was only supposed to last a couple seconds, not be the neutral air. The only way he could coin the constant noise was because it sounded like the word "hum" sounded like when spoken and then had several m’s tacked on the end. The temperature seemed to be completely attuned with his body. It was so close to Arthur's natural body temperature that he had not even noticed it. There was no slight chill. There was no warmth. It was so neutral that the blanket on his lap had no purpose.

Where was he? Had he died and passed on? Was this the hell his father was so afraid of?

If Arthur was here, was the voice also?

Arthur took a breath and a chance. “I did what you asked. I woke up.”

Instantly, the voice was all around him again. Unlike before, He could hear it with his ears, and it was overwhelmingly loud.

“I can see that. Took you long enough. My name is EVA. Welcome to the land of the Living, Mr. Forgotten King.”

**Author's Note:**

> I run on kudos and comments so tell your friends! Also, Come chat! http://einspiegelei.tumblr.com/


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